


Shallow

by SureWhyNot9



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Casual Sex, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Pining, Semi-Public Sex, Under-Desk Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-11-29 16:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11444664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SureWhyNot9/pseuds/SureWhyNot9
Summary: Okay, so maybe Swerve has a type. Maybe that type is mechs who are at least twice his height and blue. So when his captain sets him up as a volunteer to frag the superior officer he has a crush on, /maybe/ he agrees to do it even though he knows it's not a good idea in the long run because said crush is exactly his type and he can't imagine saying no to anything he suggests.It's not Swerve's fault he's a little bit shallow.





	Shallow

“You _what??_ ”

“Keep your voice down!” Rodimus shushed him sharply, pressing a hand over Swerve’s mouth and glancing over his shoulder to make sure the hallway was still deserted. “It’s not that big a deal, right? You’ve taken pretty much every other mech on the ship to berth at some point.”

Swerve shoved the hand off his face and glared up at his captain. “Okay, first of all, you have a _majorly_ exaggerated idea of how many people I’ve fragged. Second, _what the fuck_.”

Rodimus rolled his optics and huffed. “Look, if you really don’t want to, just tell him you changed your mind!”

“I didn’t change my mind! You made up my mind for me and then told me about it later!” Swerve reset his vocoder, dragging the pitch back down from the rage of _panicked squeaking_. “Did he even seem interested?”

“Yeah! Of course he did! Or, you know, as much as he ever seems into anything.” Rodimus shrugged. “He didn’t say no once I brought you up anyway.”

“Once you brought up _me_ or once you brought up that I _volunteered?_ ” Rodimus opened his mouth to answer and then closed it again. He visibly considered for a long few seconds and then shrugged again. Swerve dragged his hands down his face and groaned. “I can’t believe you. Except that this is totally something that you'd do so I _can_ believe you but I wish I couldn’t.”

“What’s the big deal? Everyone knows you’ve got it bad for him.” Rodimus didn’t seem to understand why Swerve was having such a problem with this. “It’s just a hookup, calm down.”

“I am calm! I’m super calm, I’m just also _freaking out_.”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t be both at the same time.”

“ _Rodimus_.”

If the slag-eating grin that spread over his captain’s face was any indication, he had zero remorse about putting him in this position. “You like him, he wants to get it on with you, I don’t see a problem. He said he’d comm you after his shift, which should be….” He paused. “Now!”

As if on cue, Swerve’s comm suite beeped. Incoming message from Ultra Magnus. He gave Rodimus a look he hoped was more disbelief than helplessness, and accepted the comm.

[[Swerve, you are marked as off duty for the coming shift. Please report to my office at your earliest convenience.]]

That… didn’t sound like a proposition. [[Yes sir, I’ll be right there.]] That didn’t sound like a casual response either. Swerve looked up to ask Rodimus if he was sure he hadn’t just gotten him in trouble, only to see him disappearing around a corner down the hall. “Rodimus!”

He waved cheerfully. “Have fun!”

* * *

Magnus certainly didn’t look happy to see him. “I presume Rodimus informed you that I agreed to this exercise.”

Wow. In a different tone of voice that could’ve been sexy, but instead it sounded like Ultra Magnus viewed this as a punishment. Swerve double checked that the door was closed behind him and reluctantly approached the desk that dominated most of the room. “He told me a little, but I’m still hazy on how my name came up.”

Ultra Magnus’ expression of distaste grew more intense. “He was insisting that I need to do more to re—” he frowned around the word like it tasted bad in his mouth. “ _Re—_ ”

“Relax?” Swerve offered. “Chill out? Simmer down? Unwind?”

“ _Yes_.” Magnus cut him off sharply with an irritated glance. Swerve snapped his mouth shut. “Yes, Rodimus believes I should do more of _that_ , and he suggested that you might be open to… assisting me to that end. We also discussed previous attempts at this mission. Your name came up when Hedonia was mentioned.”

“Ohhhh okay, that makes sense. I thought maybe—nevermind.” He looked around. “Is there a reason we’re in your office instead of a habsuite?”

“I wished to discuss the details before moving forward. I am more comfortable doing so in a professional setting.” His ramrod straight posture and severe expression led Swerve to believe that it wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped.

“You don’t exactly look comfortable.” What? No, Swerve, _shush_ . “And I know that jumping straight into fragging isn’t everyone's idea of a good time, especially with someone you're not in a relationship with or trying to court, and if you're not into casual interfacing then forcing the issue isn’t gonna help with the _relaxing_ at all.” ….okay that was a fine point, and Magnus didn’t look any _more_ angry. “So if the goal is that and not just blowing off steam, we don’t have to frag.” There, good, give him an out, keep things casual— “and if you want satisfaction without having to do anything yourself, I can always blow you.” NOPE. BAD. SHUT UP SWERVE.

Magnus’ frown deepened in that inscrutable way it did when he wasn’t sure how else to react to something. “Do you not consider oral stimulation to be interface?”

 _Why was it hot that he said it like that?_ “No! I mean yes, I do, but it’s… lower key? You could be doing something else while I gave you oral, you don’t have to pay attention or worry about whether or not I’m getting anything out of it. It’s more like a… service? Sort of? The way I’m thinking about it anyway, that’s not always true.” He swallowed hard and made a valiant effort not to let his gaze drop. “Why? Do you want me to?”

There were a few tense moments of silence, during which Ultra Magnus’ gaze drifted from Swerve’s visor to his mouth.

He was considering it. The fact that he had to think about it made Swerve’s tanks churn. He snuffed the tentative flutters of hope that tried to take off in his spark, and bit his glossa to keep from breaking the horrible silence that stretched on for three seconds, five seconds, _ten—_

“Would you take offense if I continued work while we were… engaged?”

Swerve let out the ventilation he’d been holding in a too-loud woosh of air. “No! Not at all! Whatever you want to do is A-okay with me.”

Magnus hesitated, then nodded stiffly as if he’d decided something. “Very well. I have to complete the duty rosters for next month. If you have no objections, we could proceed with the activity now.”

“Here?” That was super hot. “Sure! Where do you want me?”

“While I would ordinarily object to the use of an official space for interfacing purposes, it will be most efficient if I remain here to work.” Ultra Magnus scooted his chair back and motioned for Swerve to join him on the other side of the desk. Swerve stumbled over himself in his haste to comply.

Magnus’ desk was huge, with a solid panel front so even if anyone walked in they wouldn’t see that he had anything but his legs underneath it. And while Swerve doubted Ultra Magnus would be accepting visitors while they were “engaged”, there was still a thrill to knowing he _could_ and what they were doing would remain a secret. “You want me down there?” Swerve didn’t bother to hide his eagerness. “Between your legs?”

“Yes.” Magnus fixed him with a frown that was thankfully more concern than distaste. “Will that be an issue?”

“Nope!” Swerve ducked under the desk and crawled to the middle of the space. He patted one of Ultra Magnus’ legs. “Scoot back in so we can get situated, I can’t get my mouth on your spike if it’s that far away.”

Magnus moved his chair forward a few inches and stopped. “You will let me know if the close quarters become uncomfortable.”

“Yes, I will, now come on!” Was that too eager? That was probably too much. “I mean, take your time? But you don’t have to wait on my account.”

“Understood.”

It was a little awkward navigating between Magnus’ legs, but the position they ended up in was _amazing_. Swerve was comfortably perched on his knees, wedged snugly between Magnus thighs, right up against his very warm panels. He patted one of Magnus’ hips. “You okay up there, big guy?”

“Yes.” There was some shuffling on the top of the desk. Swerve assumed he was pulling out whatever work he was going to be doing. “You may proceed.”

“Are you gonna open up, or do you want me to work for it?” Another pause, and Magnus’ spike panel recessed with a quiet click. His spike pressurized in front of Swerve's face and he felt a thrill of excitement zip through him at the prospect of getting _that_ in his mouth. “Thank you!”

He took the spike in his hands, feeling the warmth and the weight of it. It was a _massive_ piece of equipment. Maybe Swerve should’ve expected that, but he knew from experience that not everyone's arrays were what could be called ‘proportional’. And okay, maybe he’d secretly hoped Ultra Magnus was endowed with the kind of spike that might more easily fit into a valve like his, but it was still fantastic to look at. He mentally prepared himself to have a sore jaw for a few days and leaned in to press a kiss to the underside of Magnus’ spike. He felt Magnus jolt slightly, but when he didn’t say anything Swerve continued. Mapping out the ridges and bio lights and intricate paintwork with his mouth was a job unto itself with so much ground to cover. It was exciting though, feeling the tiny tremors that shook Ultra Magnus’ frame every time Swerve licked or mouthed at a particularly sensitive node. He covered as much of the spike as he could with his hands, rubbing and squeezing gently so none of it went neglected as he explored from base to tip with his mouth. Lubricant was beading up at the transfluid slit by the time he got there, and Magnus’ plating was hot where it penned Swerve in on either side.

It was getting pretty steamy under the desk, Swerve’s vents dumping heat into the enclosed space. Ultra Magnus hadn’t made much noise, but considering how stoic he usually was Swerve wasn’t worried. If Magnus wasn’t happy w/ his service he’d probably send Swerve a strongly worded comm about it later. Swerve kissed the tip of his spike, lubricant smearing over his lips, and started the wonderful process of getting the whole thing in his mouth. He felt Magnus shudder as Swerve worked his way down his spike. A small “ah—” escaped his vocoder, the first sound he’d made since Swerve started.

Swerve hummed, pleased with himself, and shifted his position to take another inch. He rubbed the base of Magnus’ spike with one hand to keep it from getting _lonely_ , and worked the fingers of his other hand into one of Magnus’ exposed hip joints. He was rewarded with another quiet moan from above, and Magnus’ legs squeezed him slightly before parting again. Swerve’s spark fluttered a little at the pressure. He offlined his visor to better focus on the weight against his glossa. His lips spread wide and the tip of Magnus’ spike nudged the secondary cover to his intake. For most mechs that would prompt a gag reaction, but Swerve just swallowed, allowing the cover to open and taking Magnus in further.

Another soft sound from Ultra Magnus. A gasp that ended in a rumbling groan. It was quieter than Swerve ordinarily expected from a partner, but he was loving the taste and the smell of him, the heat rolling off his frame, the slight tremors that shook his thighs. Every reaction was restrained, but all the more intense for how well controlled Ultra Magnus usually was.

Swerve massaged the wiring in Magnus’ hips, visor still offline. It didn't matter how much there was left to go. There was only warmth and engine noise and the glorious feeling of usually untouched sensors deep in the back of his intake being stimulated. He couldn’t help the moan that vibrated through him when his lips finally came flush with Magnus’ spike housing. The tip of his nasal ridge bumped against the flat plane above the sheath and his whole frame relaxed. Charge crackled lazily through his substructure and he spent a few moments enjoying the pleasant ache in his jaw before it inevitably became a little uncomfortable.

A weight settled onto the top of his hood. It moved oddly, a sort of circular motion…? Magnus’ hand, right, of course. And he was petting him. That was nice. The gentleness was encouraging and being pet by Ultra Magnus only sent Swerve deeper into the slightly trance-like state he’d managed to achieve. “Is this alright?”

Swerve onlined his visor, blearily observing the expanse of blue and white in front of him. He couldn’t exactly look up like this. Or nod. And there was no _way_ he was talking with his mouth this full. But having Magnus’ hand resting on the top of his hood was so _nice_ and if he didn't say anything it was probably going to go away. Swerve pulled one hand away from where he was unconsciously tracing Magnus’ exposed seams and gave him a thumbs up.

There was a slight pause. “...I see.” Then the circling resumed.

Good. That was nice. That was _really_ nice. Magnus didn’t hold him down when he pulled up slightly, getting a few inches between Magnus’ spike panel and his mouth before sinking back down. It was good to be allowed to take his time. It was maybe a little weird that he was savoring the experience so much, but wasn’t it a good thing that he was enjoying himself too? And he _was_ enjoying himself. He was gonna need to clean up the mess he was making on Ultra Magnus’ floor once he was done, because even with his panels shut tight he was leaking enough lubricant down his thighs to make a small puddle between his knees. He hummed and worked his intake around Magnus’ spike, glad his hands were busy touching as much of Ultra Magnus’ plating as they could reach so he didn’t get distracted and start touching _himself_.

“Swerve.” There was that voice again. Magnus sounded farther away with the top of the desk between him and Swerve, but the hand on top of Swerve’s hood stilled and that got his attention. He sounded a little more strained than he had before. “ _Swerve_ , I—I believe it is polite to warn one’s partner before— _oh-!_ ” His grip tightened, pressing Swerve’s lips to his spike housing and seating his spike as deep in Swerve’s intake as it would go.

Swerve’s visor flared, charge crackling from Ultra Magnus’ spike to the sensors in his mouth and down his intake. He felt hot fluid spill down his intake and swallowed automatically. In that deep he couldn’t taste the transfluid, he could only feel the charge and the warmth and the little notification that popped up when it reached his tank—‘mineral-dense fuel detected’—left him with a deep sense of satisfaction. He sagged against Magnus, held in place by his legs and hand, and waited patiently for his overload to ebb. It lasted longer than Swerve would’ve guessed, but Ultra Magnus probably hadn’t had a chance to blow off steam like this in a _long_ time.

Ultra Magnus relaxed, his back hitting the back of the chair with an audible squeak and his legs trembling. “Oh dear. That was—more intense than I’d anticipated.” His thumb stroked the edge of Swerve’s hood a few times before he jerked his hand away.

Swerve drew off Magnus’ spike slowly, giving the tip a kiss farewell before it depressurized the rest of the way. He finally looked up at Ultra Magnus and gave him a smile. “How was that?” His voice crackled with excess charge. Having his intake full that far down pushed his vocoder a little ways out of alignment and left him sounding a little rougher than usual. Nothing a few hard resets wouldn’t fix.

Magnus’ faceplates were tinted slightly pink at his cheeks and across his nasal ridge. It was adorable. “That—” Swerve watched him fumble for the right words. “That exceeded expectations. I apologize, did I hurt you?”

“Nah, that was awesome. When you held me down? _Loved_ that.” He nuzzled one of Magnus’ thighs and sighed happily. His spike pressed painfully against his locked panel and his legs were slick down to his knees with lubricant, but he didn’t care. Magnus’ hand returned to his hood. He melted under the gentle pressure. “You’ve got a great spike, Mags.”

“It’s Ultra Magnus.” The correction had no heat behind it and Swerve simply hummed acknowledgement, more than content to let Magnus pet him for a while longer. It was over way sooner than he would’ve liked, Magnus’ hand returning to the top of the desk and his attention moving from Swerve back to whatever he was working on up there. “You may stay if you’d like, but I assume you had other plans for your off shift.”

Swerve couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment that this was the end. This was all he was going to get. “Yeah, of course. Just give me a minute to clean up and I’ll head out.” He pulled a clean towel from the bar out of subspace and wiped up the mess as well as he could. Other than a few stray streaks of lubricant from Swerve’s fingers, Magnus looked pristine. On the flip side, Swerve’s legs were still a little sticky even after he was done, especially right next to his blazing hot panel, but at least the floor was clean. He patted one of Ultra Magnus’ knees. “Are you gonna let me out?”

Ultra Magnus moved himself and his chair out of the way and Swerve crawled out from under his desk. He felt a bit strutless and wobbly, but he managed to keep his feet under him. Magnus frowned. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Swerve stretched, trying to tamp down his charge. “Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just a little stiff from being on my knees, you know?”

Magnus turned slightly pinker. “I suppose.” He moved his chair back into place, but didn’t immediately get back to work. “Would you be amenable to assisting me again at some point?”

Swerve’s spark pulsed hard in his chest. “You want a repeat performance? Same idea, I come give you some stress relief while you get a little extra work done?”

“Yes. If you would not mind. This has been an enjoyable experience.”

Swerve beamed. “Yes! Great! I’d totally be down for that.” He liked it! He _liked_ it! Of course he did, Swerve gave stellar blowjobs, but _still—!_ “You’ve got everyone’s schedule, right? Just drop me a comm whenever I’m free and you’re feeling the need.”

“I will do so. Feel free to refuse if at any point you do not wish to continue this...”

“Engagement?”

“Yes. You will receive no reprimand for wishing to disengage.” Magnus paused. “Thank you for your time.”

Swerve’s spark gave another unruly flutter and he grinned. “Anytime, Mags.”


End file.
